


Shared Secrets

by Papyarus



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Broken Bones, Family, Gen, Past Child Abuse, Post-Pacifist Route, Scars, Selectively Mute Frisk, Self-Harm, Sign Language, suicide ideation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-15 21:14:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5800363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Papyarus/pseuds/Papyarus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frisk has questions that Papyrus doesn't know how to answer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shared Secrets

/Are you ok?/

Papyrus tilted his head, like the Snowdin dogs he was raised around. He forced himself to concentrate on anything but the static in his head, managing a smile for Frisk. “WHAT WAS THAT?”

Frisk started to sign again, but stopped, instead pointing to Papyrus and tapping the side of his head. Papyrus winced as their fingertips grazed the sore cracks, swallowing back dread. “YOU, AH, WANT TO KNOW WHAT THOSE ARE FROM?” 

Frisk nodded once. Papyrus snorted, not unkindly, wondering what to say. 

He sat back on the couch and gently rubbed his temple, tracing the scarred surface.

Excuses fluttered through his mind- it was an accident. I tripped. They’ve always been there, haven’t you noticed? It’s a skeleton thing…

He remembered asking Sans once, about the nightmares they shared, and why they always felt so vivid. Sans had said they were just dreams. Probably a skeleton thing.

He remembered the person who taught him sign language, though he couldn’t recall the name or face. He had asked many questions, then, and gotten half truths and vague replies. He couldn’t remember the questions now, either.

He remembered the many times Sans would cling to Papyrus, shivering, as though they’d be separated for years instead of a single night cycle. Papyrus would question it, and Sans told him not to worry.

All it had done was make him worry. The knowledge he was being lied to had never hurt, exactly. It was only done for his own protection, of course. But.

Frisk made a noise of discomfort. Papyrus glanced at them, and then at his hands. Without noticing, he had rubbed a shard of bone fragment from his healing skull. He numbly stared at it in his palm.

“… Sometimes, Frisk…” Papyrus lowered his voice, desperately wondering how to explain this gently, to a child no less.

“When I get really upset, I feel like I need to- to hurt others. Or myself... I don’t, want to hurt anyone. So I focus on myself. ... It’s- it’s n-not anyone’s fault that it happens. And it’s something I’ve tried, to stop doing, but that's. Very hard.”

Papyrus swallowed, an odd task without a throat. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Frisk, to see the confusion- or worse, fear. “I- Sans knows, and so does Undyne. And now you, as well. No one else, though.”

More silence. Not unexpected, as Frisk rarely spoke, but it only fueled Papyrus’ anxiety. His bones rattled gently. “I- I shouldn’t have told you this, you don’t need to deal with this, it’s n-not-”

A small pressure on his left ulna quieted him. He turned, finally, to see Frisk gently patting his arm. Dimly, Papyrus noted that if he had flesh, he may have harmed there instead of his skull. As it was, he was usually too afraid of permanently snapping the more fragile bone.

Frisk tapped his ulna again, and pointed at themselves. Papyrus looked into their eyes and was surprised to find a sad sort of compassion. Before he could wonder why, they tugged down their sleeve, revealing the wrist.

Papyrus hissed under his teeth- a low, sympathetic noise. The scars there weren’t fresh, but still burned pale marks.

He didn’t need to ask what they were from. Frisk watched him, and Papyrus remembered a foggy day in Snowdin. Frisk had been brave then, standing before him in the cold, braced for a battle they didn’t want to fight; but this felt braver, in a way. Offering solidarity. 

There were many things Papyrus could say. When did it start? How long? Did your birth parents know? Did they help cause this? Does anyone else know?

Is this why you climbed Mt. Ebott, and found yourself with us?

… Are you happy you survived?

Many questions he could ask. Instead, he gingerly picked Frisk up into a hug. Frisk buried their head into his neck’s vertebrae, wrapping their free arm around his waist. Papyrus held the other hand, lightly brushing his fingertips over the scars.

“I love you, Frisk,” he murmured, and felt the child tap a response into his backbone.

Are you happy you survived, he didn’t ask.

Yes, they didn’t answer. I am.

**Author's Note:**

> I love Frisk i love this tiny nonverbal child with my heart and soul and I want them to be ok
> 
> This kid's been through more than they deserve. 
> 
> Also, none of the hand gestures shown are actual signs- it's more like how I communicate when I can't figure out the words[so. most of the time]. Gestures and facial expressions that come together to form meaning I can't put into words. The actual signs are put into "/" marks
> 
> Also this kinda goes with the other thing I posted earlier, with Papyrus and Undyne, but it can go alone too


End file.
